Blades and Bullets
by Liraeyn
Summary: She'd been stabbed in the back, almost literally. Her friends couldn't help. Her boss wouldn't help. That left her with one option. Her worst enemy.
1. In the Night

This is not mine.

I really should be working on some of my other fics, which I know I have not updated in a ridiculously long time, but I really like the idea I had for this one, so bear with me (and, though I try to avoid asking for reviews because it's really annoying, I do appreciate them). Hint hint.

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Kate wasn't even watching the movie. She was busy gobbling down some rice and fish she'd reheated from three nights ago, the last time she'd been home. They still hadn't solved the case they'd gotten the next morning, but Gibbs ordered his team home anyway, saying they all needed a rest.

It had started off fairly straightforward, as murders go. Dead body discovered, NCIS called in, crime scene processed, autopsy done...

They had, in the course of their investigation, stumbled onto strange activity in a warehouse a couple of blocks from where the body had been abandoned. Apparently, the now-deceased Lieutenant Baxter had stumbled onto what appeared to be a terrorist plot in the making, and had been killed for his trouble.

Unfortunately, the terrorists had escaped. Nobody liked it when terrorists escaped, except maybe the aforementioned terrorists, but Gibbs had done a decent imitation of a volcano when he learned that they had gotten away. Ever since that man had smuggled himself into Autopsy in a body bag, the MCRT's leader had gotten very touchy whenever justice did not prevail.

However, life had to go on. That was the funny thing about life, its incredible tenacity.

Finishing her food, Kate turned off the movie -what was it called? Arctic Blast?- and carried her dishes over to the counter. She was so exhausted that, for once, she didn't even bother to put them in the dishwasher before heading off to bed.

She woke up several hours later, confused and disoriented. The lamp on her bedside table was incredibly hard to turn on in the dark when one was half asleep, but she managed it, only to recoil and grasp fruitlessly under her pillow for her gun.

Not that it would have helped anyway.

Racial stereotypes aside, the man pointing a rifle at her face certainly looked like he could be a terrorist. Angry, vengeful eyes stared down the gun's barrel at her.

"Move."

Zombie-like as was perhaps justified at -a quick glance at her wall clock verified that it was in fact three in the morning, Kate marched out of her room and down the hallway to her door. Out of her apartment, not even allowed a break to get her shoes on. Into the street.

A monster with a gun followed her.

"Get in the car".

Self-preservation? That human trait that causes so much destruction: the biological programming to follow orders? Her own training as to what one was supposed to do when threatened?

No, it was probably the gun to her head.

Whatever the reason, Kate did what she was told.

Naturally, the two men who had surprised her on the street shoved one of those new-style cloth shopping bags over her head as soon as she was in the car. Seat belts buckled, engine roared, and Kate was dragged off into the end of her world.

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Author's note: Please review! I will update as soon as possible. And can I get some prayers/good wishes/whatever you want to offer for my grandpa, who had surgery yesterday, and for one of my friends, who had to have a c-section to deliver a very adorable baby?


	2. Chained and Broken

Not mine.

First of all, I would like to say thank you very much for your kind words regarding my grandpa and friend. Grandpa's okay (read: well enough to be posting things on Facebook). And I got to meet my friends' adorable baby boy. :) He and his mother are fine.

Secondly, I am slightly hesitant while writing this because I do not want to offend/bother anyone. There is a reason this is rated T. Consider yourself warned for the next couple of chapters.

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Her first sensory perception was of handcuffs around her wrists. Then the second- pain in places she didn't really want to think about. Third, the handcuffs were holding her hands behind her back, chained around what seemed to be a pipe. Four, she was lying on a cold, wet, concrete floor.

Her eyes opened unwillingly. Dry, itchy, burning from lack of sleep. Crusty in the corners.

Kate, by sheer force of habit, tried to rub her hand across her eyes. Oh, yeah. Handcuffs.

There was very little light in the room, but it appeared to be some sort of warehouse. Oil drums stashed in every corner, bare pipes and wiring in the walls.

Then she noticed the woman.

Dark brown curly hair obscured her face, but there was something almost familiar about her. Of course, it could have been Kate's imagination.

Apparently, Kate was lucky. She got to sit down.

The woman's hands were chained to one of the ceiling beams, holding her up just too high to let her body touch the ground. Her entire weight was suspended by her wrists.

Kate had at first thought that they were in the warehouse where they'd almost apprehended the terrorists, but the woman's wrists were gouged horrifically, dripping blood down her arms. She must have been there a couple of months at least.

Anger shot through Kate's body at the thought of someone keeping a woman hostage for that long. She didn't know if it was even possible to get more angry than she was at that moment.

Her head throbbed and she lost consciousness again.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"Where's Kate?"

"What?"

"McGee, I asked if anyone knew where Kate got herself to. If that's not clear enough for you-"

"No, I'm just wondering why-"

"We're working a terrorism case, and she's almost an hour late. Do the math, McGee."

"If you're that worried, why didn't you call her?"

Gibbs turned around with one of his typical death glares. Tony flinched. "Sorry, Boss."

"I'll get a GPS on her phone."

Several tense minutes passed with the sound of fingers on keys to break the mood.

"Got it!"

"Where, McGPS?"

"It's... right at her apartment."

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

Kate wondered if she had brain damage or some such- she was conscious without ever truly realizing that she hadn't been. It must have been several hours since she'd first awoken, though; the sun had moved into one of the windows.

The change in light gave Kate a better view of the woman in the center of the room. She didn't appear to have moved since-

Wait a minute.

So it was indeed possible to become more angry.

The woman was pregnant.

Held captive by terrorists for months-

Too many of information hit Kate's brain at the same time for her to have a chance of understanding them. All she could process was intense trepidation as to what might have happened while she was unconscious.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

Kate's apartment door opened at a touch. Someone had apparently kicked the door in.

Gibbs automatically strapped on latex crime scene gloves as he surveyed the apartment. Kitchen on the right, bathroom and living room on the left. Bedroom directly in front.

The door to the bedroom stood wide open, practically screaming "Investigate me!"

Naturally, Gibbs, McGee, and Tony obliged.

The clothes Kate had been wearing when she'd last gone home lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, exactly where their owner had dropped them the previous night. The bed wasn't made.

Other than that, nothing looked out of place. Gibbs swore and kicked the door frame. Almost mocking the futility of the gesture, it squealed angrily and moved a few inches.

"Spread out, dust for prints, do whatever it is you do. I need to call Director Morrow."

Normally, Tony would have rather enjoyed getting to peek into Kate's personal life. However, given the circumstances, Tony naturally really enjoyed getting to peek into Kate's personal life.

"I can't believe this. Paperback copies of all the Harry Potter books? They've obviously been read. Which means either Katie had a loser boyfriend who's addicted to wizardry, or she's actually into this kind of stuff, which is ridiculous-"

"Tony, plenty of people read Harry Potter."

"Plenty of people eat green marshmallows. What's your point, McMoron?"

"I read Harry Potter."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Wow; I didn't think it was even possible for me to respect you any less."

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"Sit up."

Still semi-comatose, Kate instinctively obeyed. Now everywhere was sore. Arms, legs, ribs that felt like they'd been kicked, and the unwelcome, returning pain between her legs.

Water splashed across her face and rather abruptly roused her.

"Hello, beautiful."

Kate jumped, sending another wave of pain through her body.

The man who had driven her from her home into the car stood with his face less than an inch away from hers. An unhealthily pleased smile stretched his scarred and tanned face.

Kate tried to respond, vehemently, but found herself unable to speak, a gag tied across and in her mouth.

"I called your Director, did you know that? I made a simple request -he frees two of my brothers- and you, Miss Caitlin, can go home safe and sound. But no-"

Here his voice broke off into a wheezy chuckle.

"-guess he doesn't want you back after all. Shame."

Kate took a deepish, shuddering, painful breath. Her lungs went on strike halfway through inflating and resorted to twitching uncontrollably.

"What did you do to me?"

The man's face quirked in an unpleasant smile. That was all Kate really needed to know.

She gagged as the man ran a slimy finger over her cheek.


	3. Awakening

Still not mine.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for…

Well, actually no. I've been waiting for it. The second half of this chapter (and part of the last one) is actually what I was originally visualizing when I started writing this story. Naturally, I had to figure out how Kate got here, and where she would be going, and all that. Anyway…

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_around the room, packing up the bare necessities. Nothing she could easily replace or live without for a couple of days. Backpack slung over her shoulder, now to wait for- _

_who was she waiting for, again? _

_He was going to pick her up and get her out of here. She couldn't stay. It was too dangerous for them. They were in danger. That's why they had to leave. That's why she had asked him to get them somewhere safe, where nobody would find them. _

_Who was she with, again? _

_Someone she had to protect. _

_Someone she had only recently discov _

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

The sound of gunshots woke Kate up rather abruptly. Then the rather awkwardly familiar sound of a falling body.

With a loud crashing sound the door burst open and her captor raced in, turning not quite quickly enough to shut the door behind him before he, too, fell dead on the floor.

Footsteps echoed eerily in the metal room as the unidentified shooter entered the room. From her position on the floor, Kate couldn't quite see him, but he appeared to be wearing dark clothing. _Right. Typical for assassins. _

She tried to see around the pipe she was chained to, but her ribs weren't exactly co-operating, so she quickly desisted and-

did she really want to be noticed by someone who had just murdered at least two people? It certainly wasn't anyone she knew.

Then again, considering the alternative was probably starving to death before she got found...

Remembering the case involving missing Marines, one of whom they'd found starved to death chained in a sewer, she shuddered and decided she would rather take her chances with the room's mysterious third occupant.

Oh, right, fourth.

As far as Kate could tell, her cellmate hadn't moved. Now that it was lighter, she could see that the other woman wore khaki pants and a brown jacket. Nice clothes, or at least they had been several months ago. Perhaps the woman had been at work when she was captured.

Her ribs flared with pain again and she gasped. _Ow…_

The man in the doorway abruptly changed tack from scanning the room to staring right at her.

Considering the nameless woman was utterly incapacitated and her one-time captor was even more so, there were no observers to the moment of recognition. If there had been, they would not have noticed any difference in the expressions of shock on the faces of both Kate and the man.

The terrorist.

No, _THE_ terrorist.

Maybe she should have stayed hidden.

Glancing over his shoulder at the near-comatose other hostage, he stepped closer and, before Kate's befuddled brain could even attempt to wrap itself around the situation, laid a hand on her cheek.

"Why hello there, Caitlyn."

Still gagged, she could only glare back.

Kate was strangely relieved when he turned on his heel and went back to the unconscious, dangling woman. Any idea what he wanted with either of them, she did not have, but at least he wasn't anywhere near her anymore.

Every movement controlled and calculated, he picked up a metal barrel from a corner of the room and dragged it under the woman in the middle of the room, supporting her weight with it while he unlocked her chains.

Kate was unsure what to think of the way he seemed almost protective of the woman, until he abruptly modified Kate's opinion of him by re-handcuffing the woman, hands behind her back, and shoving her to her feet. Another glance over his shoulder at Kate later, he walked out the door, half-marching/half-dragging his prisoner with him.

Then he was back.

"Now, Caitlyn, here's how this will work. I will modify your restraints so they will release you when fifteen minutes have passed, at which point you will be free to contact your team and go home. However, you will not inform them or anyone else that I was here. You slipped in and out of consciousness, and when you finally regained full awareness, you were unchained, and the entire warehouse was empty but for the dead bodies. You never got a good look at the woman in the room with you."

Kate nodded, not bothering to wonder what he would do to her if she did not agree. For all her bravado, she still had an annoying tendency to follow men's leads.

Never would she admit that to DiNozzo, but that's the way it was.

She flinched as the terrorist ran his fingers over her hands, unlocking her restraints and attatching them to a timer.

"Shh, Caitlyn. There is no danger."

Yeah, right.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

Director Morrow stood in MTAC, watching heat signatures on the main screen.

"Can I help you, Agent Gibbs?"

"You said you'd found something that might lead us to Kate."

"That I did."

The video played again, clearly showing several moving figures. Two appeared to be standing guard around a trio of others, until a third person moved in and both of them fell to the ground.

"Shot them?"

"Looks like it- but here's where it gets really interesting."

The shooter, if that's what he was, chased after one of the three remaining people before killing him, too. Then, for some reason, he started wandering back and forth between the last two heat signatures, before leaving, dragging one of them away.

"Where is this?"

"Warehouse in West Virginia. We got an anonymous tip of terrorist activity in the location, so I called in a favor from NSA and found this."

"Sir, I would bet that our shooter tipped us off."

"That seems likely. Get McGee on it."

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"McGee!"

The younger agent stood up. "Yeah, Boss?"

"Tip line got an anonymous call. Trace it."

"On it, Boss."

Tony glanced over. "Something to do with Kate?"

"Director thinks so. We're going to go check it out as soon as McGee gets done. Ahem- GETS DONE."

"Boss, it's really not as easy as you might think."

"I don't care, McGee, I really don't care."

Several tense moments passed before McGee stood up with a pleased look on his face. "Got it!"

"Well?"

"First I pinged all the towers in the DC area, but the call was from outside- you don't care about that. Point is, the nearest building is a-"

"Warehouse."

"Yeah, Boss, in southeastern-"

"West Virginia."

"Why did you even have me trace it?"

"Redundancy, McGee, redundancy."

The tech-savvy agent looked pretty ticked, even before Tony walked up to him and clapped his hands on his shoulders.

"Redundancy, McGee, redundancy."

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

Kate's restraints finally gave way just as she heard a car pull up. Fearing more terrorists were arriving, she rapidly resorted to playing unconscious. The throbbing in her head made it rather easy.

"Kate? Kate!"

At the sound of her boss's voice, Kate raised her head and looked around blearily. Where are you...

"Kate, you okay?"

Tony's voice reached her next, cutting through the fog. Then Gibbs again: "Call an ambulance!"

Everything faded out again.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

First came the beeping of what appeared to be a heart monitor.

Next there was the feeling of several wires and tubes connected to her body.

Then, and only then, came the intense pain, albeit muffled slightly by what felt like some sort of heavy-duty painkillers.

Her eyelids were sticky as she opened them.

"Morning, Miss Todd."

A friendly-looking brunette nurse smiled down at her.

"You've been asleep for the past 32 hours; how do you feel?"

A hoarse chuckle forced its way through Kate's throat. "Tired and sore."

"Well, the sore part's to be expected; you broke two ribs, bruised three more, and tore a ligament in your ankle."

Slight hesitation then, giving Kate some pause.

"And…?"

An air of biting the bullet.

"Miss Todd, you were raped."

Author's note: I seriously hope this isn't bothering anyone. I have a feeling that if the subject matter offends you, the next couple of chapters might not be any better. Please adjust reading patterns accordingly.


	4. Arguments and Recapture

Still not mine.

By the way, sensitive topics ahead. I do not wish to offend anyone, or to claim any level of knowledge of said topics. It's T for a reason. Consider yourself advised.

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"That could have gone a lot better."

"You want to talk about it?"

Kate shook her head. "No, Gibbs, I really don't."

Her conversation with the nurse had started off badly and gone rapidly downhill.

Truthfully, Kate had to admit that there was no good way to tell someone that she'd been raped, but she thought the nurse could have tried a little harder to soften the blow that Kate had already suspected was coming. _Well, maybe she just figured it would be best to just get it over with as quickly as possible. _

Next, they had moved on to treatment.

Translation: can of worms, part two of three.

As a trained and experienced investigator, Kate knew well the value of forensic evidence in prosecution. She also knew that evidence tended to degrade over time, especially with a case like… this.

Apparently, they had called Rachel and gotten next-of-kin permission to perform an internal examination and rape kit. Which meant that in addition to being violated again, while unconscious again, now her big sister knew about it. Not that Kate terribly minded if her sister knew, but she would have liked to be the bearer of bad news, for once.

Trouble comes in threes, they say.

Kate's empathy for the nurse, already stretched nearly to its limit, had utterly snapped when the now-cranky brunette insisted, several times, that Kate "need"ed to take the morning-after pill. _One would think they wouldn't have a rape victim treated by someone who can't take no for an answer. _

In the years since she'd graduated from the Catholic school of her childhood, Kate had, both reluctantly and less so, dispensed with the vast majority of its teachings. Until the case where an actually innocent suspect had used her to commit suicide, she'd thought the respect for life had been on that list.

She shook her head again. "No, I _really_ don't."

"Kate, I got it." Their eyes met. "No means no. I get that."

_Well, Gibbs, you're the only one who seems to. _

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

The woman with her bloody hands shackled behind her back considered that, as it seemed, she had gone out of the fire and into the frying pan.

When she heard the shots, she'd _almost_ thought that she was finally going to be rescued from this-

There wasn't a word in any of the dozen-odd languages she knew to describe what she thought of the warehouse that had been her prison for months.

Her relief was short-lived, though, when she recognized the identity of the shooter, and that he wasn't alone. His companions could have been only one type of people.

Sure enough, she was quickly blindfolded and her hands re-restrained behind her back. Car doors opened and shut, until what seemed to be the hatchback of whatever vehicle (considering her new captor's identity, probably a black SUV) opened and she was shoved in.

Something pricked her arm and


	5. Stages of Captivity and Healing

Disclaim.

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"Hold still."

The accented, male voice held its usual air of command.

Trying to obey, she nevertheless gasped and flinched as something tiny and sharp pierced the abused flesh on her wrists.

"Shh. Do not move your hands. I need to stitch them."

Blindfolded as she still was, the pain of the stitching was somewhat subdued. Unfortunately, the lack of other sensory perception only served to lengthen the amount of time it took him to finish his task.

"Done."

Gentle hands untied the blindfold and disentangled it from her hair. A glare on her part in his direction sufficed to quickly transfer his ministrations from her filthy hair to her damaged wrists.

Antibiotic cream and bandages sufficed to satisfy his -fine line between protective and possessive- need to ensure that she would recover sufficiently from stage one of her captivity.

Just in time for stage two.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

One major worry Kate had held when coming to work for NCIS was that eventually, all the dead bodies would wear her down and she would no longer be upset at arbitrary loss of life. That she would no longer care that someone had died.

It seemed that moment had arrived at last.

When the call came in for an investigation, Kate would walk around the crime scene, mechanically taking photographs of what some part of her knew were horribly brutal crimes.

Nothing.

Halfway through her third (increasingly horrible) interview with a witness since her captivity, Kate nearly drove the victim's wife to tears asking her, rather bluntly, if he'd been having an affair.

Still nothing.

There was only a little trepidation when Gibbs dragged her aside and informed her that she would no longer be doing interviews.

Wise choice.

Sometimes Kate wondered if the wisest choice wouldn't be to just stop working for NCIS altogether.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"Here."

She didn't know whether to be glad or upset that he was the only person she'd seen in a week. Occasionally she caught a phrase like "she's mine", or "nobody else touches her" from her captor, but she was amazed that his men listened to him that much.

"Hm?"

She had no idea what he'd just said.

"Here. Take these. One a day."

He tossed her a bottle.

"What are they?"

"Some prenatal vitamins I got for you. Be grateful."

"...how?"

"Advantages of being a doctor."

A sigh escaped her as she cracked open the tamper-proof cap. "I'd hoped you would be letting me go soon enough that it wouldn't make a difference."

He chuckled. "Don't push your luck. You're lucky you and that kid are still in the picture. If it weren't for me-"

"Yeah, I know. You're risking life and limb to protect me, so I should be grateful to you-"

"Actually, it might not be so long. All I have to do is convince your father to agree to the demands my superiors arranged-

"

Now it was her turn to laugh.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

Kate had "decided" to take the day off.

In the two months since her captivity, as she usually thought of it, they had not made any progress in finding/catching the terrorist who had broken into Autopsy. Gibbs was getting rather irascible and demanding an identity on the photo he had snapped with the through-the-floor camera.

No dice thus far, though during a recent break between cases McGee had begun to scan databases of United Kingdom yearbooks. Something about that seemed right to Kate, though she couldn't say what.

Not to mention that she couldn't tell them that, from what she'd heard of her rescue, he'd had a hand in it.

Why on earth she kept her promise, Kate had no idea. Normally, she approved of keeping one's word, but terrorists were usually her exception.

Normally.

Nothing about this case was normal.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Kate was about to go to bed for the night when a wave of nausea swept over her. Clutching her stomach, she ran to the bathroom and vomited up the supper she had just eaten. _Waste of a good meal... _

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

It had taken longer than either of them had hoped, but her wrists had finally recovered from the perpetual chafing they'd had during stage one.

Naturally, it had taken a while considering she was still tied up.

Now she spent 23.5 hours a day lying on what was admittedly a rather comfortable bed, tied to the headboard with bungee cords. Her captor brought her food whenever (so he claimed) his men let him. If she behaved, he would even sneak her something extra from his own plate. He would let her up to use the bathroom across the hall a couple of times a day, and on occasion bandage her healing wounds.

Not a great life, but she -and her six-month-old child- were at least alive.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"We need to move."

Simi stood in the living room, surrounded by the cell he led. Five of his brethren, one of whom had finally been convinced away from "quality" time with their captive.

Rather annoying, that he was the only one who ever got to "see" her.

"A friend of mine inside the FBI informed me that this location has been compromised. We need to evacuate to the farm we set up three months ago. I've already contacted our other friends and instructed them to send the supplies there."

Murmurs of agreement echoed around the room. There was, however, one dissident, as was typical.

"There's a problem."

"Please elaborate, Abdul."

"The exchange we arranged with our prisoner's father has not yet happened. She would be a liability to transport, and there's a chance she might escape."

"It's worth the risk," one of the other members cut in. "She's a valuable hostage."

"So you keep saying, Ha-"

"You would think she's valuable; all you do with her is-"

"Silence, Abdul; you're just jealous."

"The point still remains." Simi regained control with one look. It was well known, though probably untrue, that he had once stabbed a man to death within five seconds of the man inadvertently stealing a sip of Simi's coffee.

"You-" he gestured at the man who had taken it upon himself to "care for" their female hostage- "will ensure that she does not attempt to escape and that no one decides to rescue her. If you fail-"

Abdul thought he'd left the sentence unfinished simply due to the tendency of some of the cell's members to have very active imaginations.


	6. How to care for your hostage

I do not own this, though I suppose I own the portrayal of "hostage" and "captor". By the way, anything "hostage" says is intentionally stiff and halting. To be explained later.

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The man with dark hair pushed a shopping cart through the aisles of the store. _She owes me big time for this one. I have to wander through rack upon rack of _women_'s clothing, buy a bunch of clothes, and get her cleaned up and looking nice, just to make her look like she's not a hostage, so my "friends" don't kill her... _

Well, it would just have to be worth it.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"Here. Again."

After her captor untied her, the pregnant hostage looked through the bundle he had given her. Soap, shampoo, washcloth, towel. Black maternity sweatpants, red short-sleeved maternity top, black leather jacket, black leather motorcycle boots, red headband, white underclothes.

"Black and -white… and red all over."

That the color scheme of her new wardrobe was identical to that of her captor's motorcycle and matching clothing had not escaped her.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V

The plan involved helicopters, rifle grenades, a kidnapped former Secret Service Agent, and two hostage presidents.

_His_ plan, on the other hand, involved a private jet, the kidnapped former Secret Service Agent, and one hostage assassin.

Both plans had been rather interrupted by the discovery of their hideout.

Unfortunately for the hostage, the cell had managed to evacuate completely, packing all their sensitive information, as well as said hostage, into one SUV. They left hours before a "source" informed them that federal agents were now searching the house where they'd been staying.

Annoying, yes, that they had to move to Location B. The original building was almost perfectly located between the supply drops and the route the helicopters would take. The new base, an abandoned farm, lay considerably farther from the supply drops, which meant that they would have to rethink the whole process from pretty much step one.

Shame.

The SUV lurched as they turned off the main road and onto the gravel one that would lead to the farm. He automatically glanced over at the woman in the leather jacket who sat next to him in the captains' chairs. Side by side. Just like they should be.

She was truly beautiful. Granted, he was completely biased, but hey, whatever. He'd known that pretty much for as long as he'd been acquainted with her.

It had been considerably longer than his men thought.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"Grab your gear."

"Oh?"

For once, Kate was actually excited about a case. She wanted to solve a problem. Murders, robberies, and the like were far simpler than her life had become, especially if her new suspicion was correct.

"FBI found a terrorists' hideout, but they're too busy to process it. We're supposed to go in, bag and tag everything, get it to Abby, and report to them."

"So basically, we're doing the dirty work for the guys at the Hoover building. This sucks, you kno-"

"That, or it's sexual harassment lecture time again."

"Dirty work for the guys at the Hoover building, why not?"

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

The house was rather large, a total of six bedrooms, four and a half baths. All completely empty, though looking like they'd recently been inhabited. Bedding was crumpled, trash cans were full, and a couple of drawers in two of the rooms still stood open.

Kate's attention, though, was focused primarily on one of the upstairs bedrooms, where scuff marks on the headboard of the double bed indicated that someone had been held there for some time.

Bagging the contents of the room, Kate noticed a couple streaks of strange white powder on the bedside table.

"Tony?"

Her partner quickly walked in from the bathroom attached to the room she was in. "Find something?"

"Powder- you think it could be drugs?"

Tony ran a gloved hand through the powder, inspecting it. "Can't tell. Get it to Abby."

Kate rolled her eyes, but did as he said.

"Yes sir."

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"So it seems these terrorist types aren't completely depraved."

"How so?"

The entire team was standing in Abby's lab, as forensics traces were the only ones that anyone had found of the alleged terrorists. Tony, Gibbs, and McGee were starting to wonder whether they had actually found a terrorist hideout, or if it was just your average garden variety bad tip.

Kate, on the other hand, had a funny feeling that whatever Abby was about to say, it had to do with the mysterious terrorist with the kind eyes. He seemed rather -different- from most.

"Okay, first I thought the medicine must have belonged to one of the terrorists, since who gives their captives good medical care, but then I analyzed these bandages in the trash, and some bungee cords with epithelial tissue on them-"

"Abby, I am not obligated to provide Caf-Pow!."

"Excellent point, Gibbs."

The happy Goth pressed a couple of keys on her keyboard, bringing up photos of bloody bandages.

"They must be busy; they didn't even bother to take out their trash. Anyway, the blood stains on the bandages range from a couple of days ago to approximately three weeks. The older ones are messier, so I'm guessing that whatever wounds these were for healed during that time."

"Do you know what caused them?"

Kate's question was rather a formality, since she already suspected what Abby's evidence would reveal.

"Fibers on the bandages are all over the bungee cords, and vice versa, so I'm guessing the wounds were on her wrists. Maybe they first used something stronger than bungee cords, but realized they were hurting her…"

"Her?"

Tony's expression wrung out of Kate her first smile in- well, longer than she could remember. Abby nodded.

"The DNA's still analyzing, but it belongs to a female, type A positive, pregnant-"

"Pregnant?"

"Yes, Kate, as in containing a smaller version of a combination between oneself and another… The bandages also had traces of antibiotics on them. Someone _really_ wanted her to recover."

"Baby's father?"

"Come on, Gibbs, science is getting really advanced, but that's pushing it. Maybe in a couple of decades I'll be able to find the baby's DNA from Mommy's blood, find a single dead skin cell on the outside of the bandages or the bungee cords, and run a paternity test, but until then, all we know is that whoever was taking care of her wanted her and the baby healthy. Speaking of which, that powder you found wasn't drugs. It came from splitting a supplement pill- folic acid, calcium, and iron."

Four blank looks were her only response.

"Wow, I seem to be the only one here who knows anything about science. Prenatal vitamins, guys!"

There went Kate's last shred of denial. The terrorist and the woman he'd half-rescued-half-abducted were still in town.

That, and…

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

Black and white and red all over.

That was Kate's first thought when she saw the man on the motorcycle.

The next thought was her inner profiler taking over, telling herself that the man must be some sort of chauvinistic, probably misogynistic, daredevil.

Scarily accurate, she would tell herself later, albeit incomplete.

However, what she did not expect was for him to open the visor of his helmet and reveal himself as the man who the first time they'd met had captured her, and the second time, freed her.

And she certainly did not expect him to capture her again, even indirectly.

She knew as soon as she slammed the door -far too late by then to turn back- that she'd been tricked into getting into the nearest car. Maybe it was just the look on the face of the driver, or the fact that too many men were packed into a car in the middle of the day for there to be an innocent explanation, or maybe it was that the seat seemed almost to be waiting empty for her, or just that they didn't question her need to ride in the car. No innocent bystander just decided to give a ride to a complete stranger, federal agent or no.

Naturally, the gun one of the men in the back seat pointed at her quickly distracted her from endeavoring to ascertain exactly what had made her not so surprised.

"What do you-"

"Quiet, Agent Todd. You do not, after all, want to attract attention. Your odds of survival would rapidly decrease."

Kate had been planning to do exactly that. You were supposed to scream for help, crash the car, yell "fire", anything to get someone's attention and scare off your attacker.

These -they must be terrorists- were hardly your average would-be kidnapper, though. They would kill her before letting her go, and while they were at it, anyone who tried to help her. All in the name of the mission.

Her trepidation grew stronger and stronger as they drove off into the countryside, travelling through woods and fields and farms. This is not good...

Absurdly, when they pulled into a barn and stopped the car, she was actually glad to see the terrorist she'd encountered twice before. Somewhat more predictable, less extreme, the fact that he'd freed her and trusted her to be quiet rather than killing her...

Clearly, there had to be ulterior motives going on, but she wasn't going to go there.

Not that she ever enjoyed having the lower hand in dealing with "suspects", not that she merely suspected that they were evil...

For whatever reason, this time she was far more scared than usual. As if she was more likely than normal to end up hurt or killed, or it would be worse if she were...

Worse than killed? Come on, Katie, it's not like you can die twice.


	7. Escape and another for the black list

Not mine.

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Basam's first blow had merely stung, whereas his second had actually split her lip. Trying to avoid causing more damage, she licked at the cut, the warm, metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.

"You will make it worse doing that."

The terrorist looked less cheery, somehow, than the previous times they'd met. Not that he'd been all fun and games before, but he seemed... preoccupied might be the best word for it.

"Sorry if I don't take advice on self-preservation from a guy who's trying to kill me. Not to mention that you're a terrorist."

"Not your best profiling, Caitlin. I am no terrorist, as I have told you before. And it would serve utterly no purpose to kill you."

"Then why am I here?"

"I thought you might appreciate an explanation of why we last met."

"I don't buy it. You have your men kidnap me, you risk bringing law enforcement into your hideout to rescue me, because _I_ want something from _you_?"

"So you're not interested."

Kate hesitated. "That's not what I said."

That drew a laugh. "If you want answers, Caitlin, first you must provide one."

"So there is a reason you captured me."

They were interrupted by the arrival of a blonde woman whom Kate abruptly realized was the same one whom Tony had been chasing earlier.

"I brought what you requested, Haswari." She set a bottle of wine and a tray of glasses on the picnic table next to the bowl of ice.

"Ah, thank you, Marta." Ignoring Kate's startled look, he lifted the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. "I'd offer you some, Caitlin, but considering-" he waved a hand in her general direction- "that's not a good idea."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Haswari" merely chuckled and left, rather to Kate's reluctant chagrin. She rather resented being left alone with the apparently unstable blonde, but the resent _should_ have been overwhelmed by relief at Haswari having left.

Absolutely nothing was going the way it should.

"So, Caitlin," Marta began in a voice thick with an accent Kate couldn't place- something European, perhaps- "you will tell me exactly how to identify which of three helicopters carries the president."

"Or what- you'll kill me? Then you'd never find out."

"You misunderstand- there is no 'or' involved."

Before Kate could react, Marta pushed her off the chair and threw her to the ground. Kate instinctively rolled into a ball and wrapped her arms around her stomach in a probably ultimately futile attempt to protect herself and-

...there she went again.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

After weeks of holding her shredded skin together, the stitches had been removed the previous night with a set of nail clippers. The skin and muscle had knitted itself together well enough that it didn't even hurt when she wrenched her hands out of the bungee cords. Or maybe she was just finally used to the pain.

Why on earth did so many people think that underneath the mattress was a remotely effective hiding place?

The jacket she'd been given had at least a dozen pockets hidden in the lining. More than sufficient to hold the bottle of vitamins, the bottle of water her captor had left the last time he'd visited, and, of course, the knife and bundle of American money previously tucked under the mattress. Careless of him.

The baby kicked as she slipped out of her room and down the hallway.

_It's okay, little one. Ima is finally escaping. _

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"I know that bastard Haswari said not to harm you, but he does not control me. He thinks he's so-"

In the midst of Marta's tirade, Kate suddenly realized that there was a woman running flat out from the house to the nearby woods. She was wearing a black jacket and pants, with a red headband holding back her long brown hair. Kate tried not to stare and give away the fact of the woman's departure.

Shortly after the woman disappeared, it occurred to Kate that it was the same woman whom Haswari had rescued/captured. The pregnant one. The one he'd been giving prenatal vitamins.

Kate was quickly brought back to the present by the sound of a silenced pistol going off, followed quickly by a sharp pain in her left calf. She clutched at it and clenched her teeth to stop herself from screaming.

"Which one is it?"

The sound of a gun being cocked again.

"Do not think we will just let you go if we do not get what we want, Caitlin. We can keep you here forever. Haswari might like another toy-"

Another shot.

Kate lay absolutely still, barely even registering that she hadn't been hit this time. She simply huddled on the ground, arms wrapped around her stomach, heart racing.

"Caitlin?"

_That_ wasn't Marta's voice.

"Haswari?" She lifted her head slightly, just enough to see Marta's body lying on the ground and Haswari holstering his gun.

"Call me Ari."

"Why?"

"Because that is my name. Ari Haswari, Mossad."

"No, why'd you shoot her inst- wait, what?"

A smirk, and the return of her cell phone.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

"That's it, Miss Todd."

"Agent."

"Excuse me, _Agent_ Todd. Your ankle should be fine, but I wouldn't recommend walking too much or running at all for the next week. And-"

The nurse snuck a quick glance around. After what happened last time, Kate had insisted on a different hospital, and that her team would go back to headquarters and wrap up reports once they were sure she would be okay. Fortunately, the gunshot wound in her lower leg had only needed a couple of stitches and would almost certainly heal properly.

Finally, some good news.

"Um, can I get some painkillers?" Kate took advantage of the nurse's temporary distraction. "My leg is killing me."

"That is not a good idea, Mi- _Agent_ Todd. Unless, of course- wait, um…"

Kate mentally added her current abode to her black list of hospitals.

"Say something coherent, please."

"Agent Todd, you're pregnant."

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

Author's note: Be honest, did anyone see that coming?


	8. Stabbed in the -back?

In one of my college classes, we actually calculated what we would have if we walked off of campus with the clothes on our back and the money from selling whatever we had with us. Mine came out to about $4000. So don't sue.

This chapter is where we start getting to where the summary takes place. Also, the title becomes particularly relevant.

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It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Kate had always thought when she was pregnant for the first time, she would be happily married (with a huge wedding with all her friends and family gathered) to the man of her dreams. They would buy a huge house, have tons of money, and then they would huddle together for five minutes waiting for a plastic stick to turn color, and then they would have another huge party, and go together to doctor's appointments, smile at the baby's heartbeat, tape ultrasound photos all over their house, get the nursery ready…

This, however, was like the old cliché that when you meet your childhood hero, he turns out to be a complete jerk. That awkward moment when you realize that nobody is perfect.

Naturally, the same could be said for the timing of a new someone, but this was almost as far from perfect as it could get.

Possibly the last scenario she had imagined for impending motherhood was to be sitting in the reception area for Director Morrow's office, trying to figure out the best way to deliver her unexpected news. He would doubtless take it badly that she would have to go on leave for months, but Kate hoped he would be nice about it. _This is completely not my fault, anyway. _

A smile touched her lips as she pressed her palm against where she knew her baby must be. _All is well, little one; don't worry. _

She was startled out of her reverie when the door burst open. "Why hello, Agent Todd. Just the woman I was looking for."

"You were looking for me?" Come on, Kate, be a little quicker on the draw.

"Yes. I need to discuss your new assignment. Come in."

Alarm bells sounded like an avalanche in Kate's head as she walked into Director Morrow's office. Does he know- no, he couldn't possibly. I haven't told anyone, and medical records are confidential-

"Sit, please."

She did so, enjoying the softness of the leather chair across the desk from the director. Six weeks along wasn't possibly enough to cause the back trouble and sore feet that seemed to plague so many pregnant women, but she thought they were still present anyway. _Probably just all in my head._

"I'm sending you on an undercover assignment in Turkey. You need to locate, infiltrate, and destroy a cell we've been monitoring for some time. You leave tomorrow."

_Okay, he definitely doesn't know. _

"Sir, I'm afraid that won't be possible."

He raised an eyebrow. "This wasn't a suggestion, Agent Todd. I need you on this assignment, and this is a direct order from your director."

Some part of Kate's brain _almost_ made some no-pun-intended joke, but considering the gravity of the situation, it didn't seem like a good idea. She elected to simply spit it out.

"I'm pregnant. I came to see you because I need-"

"Get rid of it."

Kate's shock prevented her from responding before the director continued. "You are to complete this assignment immediately. I can't have you compromised in any way."

"You can't tell me to do that-"

"I can, and I will."

"That's illegal-"

"So is lying in your after-action report."

"What?"

Kate, of course, knew exactly what he was talking about. What she didn't comprehend was how Director Morrow had figured out that she had, in fact, seen her rescuer. Ari. And his "toy", if Marta was to be believed.

"Don't 'what' me, you miserable- get back here!"

Her plan to dodge out the door thwarted, Kate knew she couldn't escape. That left fighting off-

Morrow snatched a knife from the desk drawer and lunged at her.

A scream tore from her lips as she dodged aside, barely protecting her baby from the blade, which lodged in her left hip. She gasped, hot pain piercing her body.

Morrow lunged at her with the knife again, but stopped. "Right. Not compromised."

Kate gasped, both in pain and at his actions. _How can he be that cruel? _

Morrow's demeanor changed abruptly. "Fine. Take the rest of the day off. You come back tomorrow with it gone, you understand? I do not want to see that thing again."

Kate left in a daze, not pushing her luck. Her hip throbbed and complained as she stumbled down the stairs into the office.

"Kate!"

She spun around, hoping Gibbs hadn't noticed the blood soaking into her dark pants. She needn't have worried. His attention was clearly elsewhere.

"You knew Ari was back in the country and didn't tell me? You knew how important this was!"

Unable to follow Gibbs' tirade any longer, Kate whispered the only thing she could think of. She wasn't even sure if it was true. Actually, it most likely wasn't.

"I'm sorry."

Gibbs' gaze softened almost imperceptibly. "Go home. Sleep. "We'll discuss this tomorrow."

_Tomorrow,_ Kate thought to herself as she walked toward the elevator, _I won't be here._

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

In years to come she would often wonder just what had prompted her that evening, but she never had an answer. Most likely she had wanted a tangible reminder of a life tenuous to begin with, that as time went on seemed ever more endangered. In any event, Kate found herself standing in a store she didn't even remember driving to, staring at racks and bins full of baby clothing, unsure of what exactly she was looking for, but utterly confident in her ability to recognize it when she saw it.

"It" turned out to be an emerald green onesie with "If you think I'm cute, you should see my mom" stitched in gold across the chest. Attached to the onesie were a matching hat and rattle.

At the checkout, the friendly blonde cashier handed Kate her outfit in a plastic shopping bag with a smile that rapidly faded to a concerned frown and a "Miss, are you okay?"

Kate followed the woman's gaze and realized with horror that the bandage she'd hastily applied when she stopped at home had given out and stained her shirt with blood.

"I'm okay. I just got cut; I'll go home."

"Yes, perhaps you should. Take care of yourself."

"You too."

By the time Kate got back to her apartment, the wound was throbbing so badly that she stumbled every time she put her weight completely on it. To make matters worse, the bandage on the bullet wound needed changing again, but had stuck to her calf. The combination of the two injuries distracted her so badly that she didn't even notice that she was being watched.

Huddled on the cold tile floor in her kitchen, she lifted up her shirt and examined her hip. _Why did I even bother bandaging it? Fifteen minutes and it hasn't made a bit of difference. _

The gauze shredded as she unwrapped it to reveal a gash deep enough to bare the bones in her left hip stretching to her lower back. Blood seeped from it like there was no tomorrow. _Won't be if I don't get this thing fixed. _

"Here."

Finally, Kate realized just how badly she was functioning when she hadn't even noticed the intruder before he was two feet away from her with a wet washcloth.

"What are you doing here, Ari?"

She tried to get up and get her gun off the counter, but her leg gave out and she fell sprawling backwards on the tile.

"Easy, Caitlin. Don't try to get up. You'll just make it worse."

"You-" she gulped. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were doing."

Kate wanted to argue, but felt too exhausted. "Curiosity satisfied, now? You've gotten me shot, stabbed, and in huge trouble at work."

"Exactly. I owe you, so- what's this?"

He picked up the shopping bag that still held the baby clothes. "So you're bleeding badly, and your first priority is to buy clothes for a kid who won't need them for over seven months?"

Kate shrugged. "I don't really know. Buying an outfit for my kid's probably all I'll ever be able to do for it, since thanks to you my Director now wants to kill it."

Ari sighed. "Caitlin, my intention was never to get you or your baby in trouble. If the men I was with had found out about you, they would have killed you. Swearing you to secrecy was the only way I could protect you without blowing my cover. I must say, though, I thought you would probably tell your team."

She shrugged subconsciously. "I keep my promises. I'm not going to let _you_ of all people stop tha- ow!"

"Sorry."

"You about done there?"

"If you would stop moving… You know, I really should stitch this up."

"Fine, whatever."

Ari yanked the pack off his back without even standing up and took out a plastic first aid kit. Kate looked away as he began the arduous process of stitching up her hip. To block out the pain, and simply because she needed to tell someone, she started to describe what had happened to her since they had last "met". Naturally, she found herself unable to stop, her voice rising in pitch and volume as she described the "conversation" with Director Morrow, Gibbs' anger, and her current hopeless predicament.

"All done."

"Actually, no. Then I went out and bought that outfit, and came back to find _you_ in my apartment."

"No, I meant I'm done."

"What?" Kate craned her neck and inspected the neat row of black stitches wrapping around her hip. "Oh. You're done."

"Yes, Caitlin."

Kate could have sworn that was exasperation she heard in his voice.

"It's just I thought it would take longer."

"I am a doctor, Caitlin. And I've had a lot of experience lately."

"Bandaging up your 'toy'?"

Ari suddenly became very serious and looked Kate in her eyes. "I assume you are referring to Marta's misperception of my relationship with the woman you saw in the warehouse."

"And on the farm. You didn't seem to notice her escaping."

"I had arranged it so that she would be able to escape when the rest of the cell was occupied with you and their mission."

"Why?"

"I had to make them think that she was, in fact, my 'toy', as you put it."

"Why?"

"Is that all you're going to ask me, Caitlin?"

"Pretty much, until you explain exactly why you forced me to lie for you. You almost got me killed."

"I suppose an explanation might be warranted."

"You think?"

Ari looked confused, so Kate explained. "That's what my boss always says when someone states the blindingly obvious."

"I led Marta, along with the rest of the cell, to believe the simplest explanation for why I insisted on keeping the woman alive. If they'd dug any deeper, it would have gotten both of us killed."

"But why?"

"Because the woman you saw is my sister."


	9. Unplanned Planning

For the umpteen gazillionth time, I do not own this.

In case anybody's noticed, I edited a few passages in the last chapter because I inadvertently wrote something twice. Hope I've fixed it.

I know it's been a while since I updated this story, but I'm dealing with a lot of crap right now. I started college in September, and it's been going a little crazily. I'm attempting to de-stress by writing this story. Fic. Feeble attempt to indulge my obsession with Ziva/Kari/pregnancy/destruction of canon. Whatever this is that I am writing. You know what I mean. Please review.

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The _slightly_ stereotyped black SUV was actually going far faster than the speed limits allowed. Not the brightest move when trying to avoid detection by law enforcement.

Of course, Ari wouldn't really have minded getting caught. At least Ziva would get out of this-

no words to describe it, really.

Excessive speed aside, the pile of weapons the cell had originally been trying to appropriate from the compromised cell would certainly gain the attention of any passersby who bothered to look under the tarp strapped to the roof. Or they might be distracted if she woke up and tried to escape. Not terribly likely, but still…

This was, after all, _her_ they were talking about.

Impulsively, Ari stuck his head over the back seat, successfully hiding how much his sister's appearance concerned him. Her ribs were showing through her torn and filthy shirt, her hair tangled and matted, her wrists torn to the bone by the constant chafing, the arms attached to them horribly skinny.

"How's it going, little darling?"

Laughter and a few inappropriate comments ricocheted around the SUV. Ziva opened her eyes a fraction and clumsily flipped him off. Ari's laughter joined that of the others, though his was far more of relief that his little sister had retained _some_thing of her fighting spirit.

"Easy, tiger. We _probably_ won't hurt you."

_Funny_, Ari thought, _I'm just being completely honest with her, and my "friends" think I'm making fun of her_. Then: _This would be fun if she weren't in such danger_.

By the time the SUV got back to their base, Ziva was unconscious again and Ari was worried. _I most likely have less than ten seconds to find an excuse for bringing her back alive._

It came to him in a flash of insight that made him laugh even more. As soon as the car stopped, he got out, opened the back hatch, and dragged her out, trying to find the right balance between _looking_ like he was hurting her, and not actually doing so.

Naturally, he couldn't just _ask_ her if she was okay, even if they were free to talk. At the moment, she was conscious enough to move her feet, not much else. Besides, she would never admit that there was a problem.

"Come on. Move it. We're going to get you nice and comfortable."

Amazing, how the same words could have two _completely_ different meanings.

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

Kate stared at her unintentional guest uncomprehendingly. Somewhere, in the back of her head, everything clicked into place, accompanied by a joy she really didn't want to feel that Ari wasn't some psycho abusive- _It shouldn't make a difference. It doesn't matter-_

Yeah right, Katie.

"Why did- what happened to her in the first place?"

"She was on a mission for Mossad -we're both officers- and I still haven't figured out what went wrong, but when she didn't check in after she was supposed to be done with the a-" he caught himself- "mission," Kate glared at him, knowing full well what he'd been about to say, "I got worried, but no one bothered to listen or go looking for her. By the time I managed to land an assignment where I could try to find her, it had been months since she'd vanished. I was surprised to find her still alive. Almost as surprised as I was to find you. It felt kind of awesome to get you both out of there while pretending to be the bad guy. Then, well, out of the fire and into the frying pan. I did everything I could to protect her, take care of her-"

Kate tried to imagine what it would be like to have one of her siblings in mortal danger for that long and shuddered. "I can't even imagine."

The conversation lapsed into silence as Kate inspected her hip. "Thanks. It feels a lot better now." Ari smiled, just slightly. "It's nice to be able to fix something." "Easier than fixing your sister?" Kate quickly regretted her words as Ari's face clouded over. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." No, I'm okay. It's just that she's well, not exactly fully recovered yet, or to be honest, probably ever. Mental health aside, she's pretty battered. They were- well, take a guess, she'd been there for months, they weren't feeding her enough for herself, never mind the baby-"

Kate's heart stopped. At least, that's how it felt. "The baby-" Ari shook his head. "No, he should be fine. Or she. But Ziva insists it's a he. I smuggled her what food I could, but she insisted that secrecy had to come first. Meanwhile in Mossad…"

He chuckled wryly and Kate had to smile. _So this is how he copes._

Then: "What on earth am I supposed to do now, Ari? I can't go back to NCIS, not that I even want to anymore."

"Then come with me."

Kate was startled too badly to speak for the next several seconds, then blurted out, "What?"

Ari smirked. "I'm not taking Ziva and her kid back to Mossad, and she'd never leave without me. So, we're getting out, starting over. I'd- _We_'d love company."

Kate had to laugh. "Are you trying to flirt with me?"

"Maybe."

"Well, since I don't really have any other options, I don't think it counts."

"So…"

"Yes, I'll come."

"Good. I have a flight to Paris arranged for tomorrow afternoon. I'm supposed to pick Ziva up from her 'hotel room' in the morning and get her to the airport. You get what you want packed and I'll be back around noon."

"Why is it a 'hotel room'?"

"I figured if she were hiding in some fleabed motel then that's the last place Mossad would be looking for her. I have plenty of money, so they would assume I put her someplace nice."

"Fleabag."

"What?"

Kate realized that she had never before seen Ari Haswari _confused_. She rather liked it.

"The phrase is 'fleabag'. Actually, I think it's just a word. Either way, didn't you pick that up at Edinburgh or some such?"

"I am not exactly accustomed to 'fleabag' accommodations."

"Ah, the rich-and-spoiled ignorance defense."

"Rich, yes, spoiled, no."

"True."

For a moment, there was another lapse in the conversation, broken by Kate's "Noon tomorrow".

"Yup." Ari glanced around her apartment almost wistfully. "Seems a shame though, to leave such a lovely place."

Kate shrugged. "We'll find something better. Big apartment, house, whatever-" Ari smirked "-and it'll be just fine. Sounds like you'll be able to handle whatever we need to get."

"And you will of course be helping out." Ari glared at Kate with mock-seriousness; she burst out laughing. "Okay, whatever."

"We'll be on the run for at least a couple of weeks, changing identities, countries, and such. Mossad's people-tracking abilities are unrivaled. So you're going to have to find a balance between packing light and bringing what you're going to need. Couple sets of clothes, weapon or several, some cash, anything absolutely irreplaceable."

Kate nodded. "Yeah, I know the drill."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Kate was almost sorry to see him go, but had to laugh at his last words.

"And don't forget that kid!"


	10. Preparations

Not mine.

So, this should be a much faster update than the last time. Unless, of course, I get bogged down. Remains to be seen.

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So here she was, where she'd dreamed herself weeks ago. In her apartment, waiting for him -Ari- to pick them -her and her baby- up and spirit them off into the great unknown. She'd known about her child well before the nurse told her. She just hadn't realized it.

Bare essentials and keepsakes. Right. Nothing she could replace or live without.

She allowed herself a backpack, a rolling suitcase, and a duffel bag. _Stick to that, Katie, or you'll bring your whole apartment, building and all._

Comfy pajamas. Three changes of clothing. A week's worth of socks and underwear. Flip-flops. She laid out an outfit to wear on the plane: her favorite sweats, her favorite t-shirt, a fleece hoodie, that knit cap Abby had given her, and her work boots. A flare of nostalgia quickly died away. That part of her life was _over_. Right. Moving on.

A small photo album, along with a flash drive full of others. A thin but comfy blanket, rolled tightly into the bottom of her backpack. Her old baby blanket, wrapped around the outfit she'd bought. A water bottle. Her trusty sketchpad and pencils. Her Bible. Her meds. Her grandmother's necklace. A drawstring bag, packed with her emergency cash. A couple of granola bars and hot chocolate mix packets. With any luck, those would be the only cravings she got until they arrived in Paris. And, of course, an electric kettle to heat the water.

Clothing, check. Shelter, check. Keepsakes, check. Defense, check. Sustenance, check. Kate laid a hand on her still-invisible baby bump. _Offspring, check._

V^V^V^V^V^V^V

In the "fleabed" motel, the flickering light from a scented candle provided the sole illumination. Weird shadows danced across both the walls and the still, huddled form of the woman on the bed.

It wasn't that Ziva liked the dark. She _hated_ it. It felt like she was back in that warehouse. Only vague, indirect light for a few hours every day. Any more hurt her eyes.

Ari had blindfolded her when he held her hostage, but that was way too suspicious for everyday life. She made a mental note to make him buy her some sunglasses at their earliest convenience.

The light from the candle, unsteady as it was, for the moment proved far more reassuring than the perfect, sterile, mass-produced luminescence that came with the room. Something very reassuring about knowing the origin at a glance.

Then there was the jasmine scent of the smoke. Jasmine. Her old standby for a hangover remedy. Naturally, it carried its association with the prospect of healing and recovery. It almost chased the monsters out of the dark.

Almost.

Perhaps, with time, they would go away completely.

Perhaps not.

Ziva was startled out of her reverie by a tiny hiccupping sound emanating from the vicinity of her bump. She started laughing, realizing that she hadn't done so since her capture.

_My child. My __**hero**_.

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The cargo plane exuded an air of cold, hard, sterile, lifeless, uncaring, metallic emptiness. Ari stood at the top of the loading ramp, glaring at the interior and knowing that he had only a few hours to make it presentable. There was no way he would let his little sister and his new best friend fly across the Atlantic in something this inhospitable. A small shopping spree seemed in order.

Soft, incandescent yellow lights, the kind you push to turn on. Blankets and sleeping bags unrolled over the floor made it infinitely more comfortable. Cardboard boxes full of snacks and bottled water staked down the corners. A few DVDs -nothing too violent or scary- and his computer on which to play them would have to suffice for entertainment.

Ziva would probably sleep most of the flight anyway. Six months pregnant plus imprisonment plus malnutrition equals exhaustion.

Two plastic boxes held a few spare sets of clothing for himself and Ziva, while a third contained a handful of keepsakes. He threw a few fluffy pillows around and called it a night, convincing himself that for all practical purposes, the plane had become the world's most expensive resort hotel.

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To whom it may concern, 

My name is Caitlin Todd. I used to be an NCIS Special Agent; now I must begin a new life. You may consider this my letter of resignation. 

I must put the needs of my child ahead of my own. Do not attempt to locate me. It is best for everyone if I disappear and start over. 

Short, sweet, to the point.

Kate signed the note and, for lack of a better place, stuck it to her fridge with an Indiana state magnet. Gibbs would come looking for her when she didn't show up at work. The team would doubtless be upset and confused at her departure, but she couldn't think about them. Just the baby.

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Ari opened the door to the hotel room as quietly as possible, slipped inside, and shut it behind him. The change in light, small as it was, caused Ziva to stir and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like Hebrew for "go away".

"Shh," he whispered, bending down to kiss her. "It's just me."

He wrapped his arms around her, cuddling her against him. Closing his eyes, he felt his breathing synchronize with hers.

Hours later, he knew they had to leave.

"Come on, Ziv. Time to go."

She shook her head and burrowed deeper into the covers.

"No, don't do that. It's just a couple of minutes to the airport, then you can sleep all you want. Don't you worry."

Ari peeled back the covers to reveal her terrified, scarred, emaciated face. She reached up with one bandaged hand. He clasped it in both of his, trying to calm her.

"Here." Ari put Ziva's blown-out candle into one jacket pocket, removing a pair of sunglasses from the other. "Put these on."

She hesitantly took the glasses and put them on before wrapping her arms around him as he picked her up. He gently carried her out of the door, letting it shut itself behind him.

In the parking lot, the siblings narrowly avoided an unpleasant confrontation with two hung-over bikers whose words Ari fortunately missed catching. Something about "wrong direction, wrong time of day".

Filthy pigs.

Ari set Ziva down on unsteady legs to open the driver's side door of the SUV before scooping her up and helping her in through to the passenger's side. He felt like she was a baby again, and he had to take care of her. Like she was totally helpless. _Not far wrong, there. She might not be a baby, but there's one living in her._

He carefully arranged the seatbelt around her baby bump, which, he realized pessimistically, was the only part of her that wasn't painfully thin. _Nothing you can do about that right now, Haswari. Just get them out of here. All she needs is rest and food. And rest. And food. And rest. And- well, you get the picture, right? _

At one point during their trip, Ziva looked like she was trying to take her sunglasses off, but quickly thought better of it. Her eyes had to still be too sensitive to light.

When they arrived at the airport, Ziva surprised her brother by opening her door and getting herself out without his help. Ari put one arm around her shoulder and guided her toward the plane, hoping he wouldn't have to carry her. _You need to let yourself recover, little one._

Now as never before, he finally understood his father's tough love. Ships and harbors.

This ship, beautiful and fragile as it was, would need major repairs to become seaworthy once more.

But Ari would never let her sail as far as their father wished.


	11. Departure

I do not own this. Why must I keep repeating myself?

This chapter is dedicated to Angelhaggis, my most faithful reviewer, although admittedly the competition is pretty mild, and also the author of one of my favorite fics of all time (this one is tough competition), The Star of David.

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Kate hated just sitting around waiting for Ari to show up and take her away. Every five seconds she thought she had forgotten something vital, or that her phone, now buried in the communal Dumpster, was ringing, or that those footsteps in the hallway, doubtless belonging to one of her neighbors, were actually Gibbs, or McGee, or Tony, coming to check up on her.

At least it was Saturday, so she wasn't supposed to be at work anyway. With any luck, she would be long gone before Monday.

Closing her eyes, she tried to picture the scene. They would show up at work, Tony and McGee happily bickering, Gibbs sipping his coffee, Ducky recalling some Wikipedically relevant tale of days gone by, Abby on her newest crusade…

How long would it take them to miss her? An hour? Two? Until they got a call? Call her, get no answer, trace her phone, with no success, show up at her apartment, find her note…

Would they ask Director Morrow what had happened? Would he lie to them, or twist the truth? Would they put it together that she was pregnant?

Or would they just not care?

A knock on her door startled Kate out of her masochistic, self-pitying guilt trip. _Thank you._ She rubbed her hand over her stomach as she answered the door, praying that it was Ari, not one of her teammates, and she could stop second-guessing her decision.

God must have been in a good mood, because there on her doorstep stood a momentarily overly friendly now-ex-Mossad double agent.

Ari.

Much shorter way to refer to him.

Out of the blue, she wondered if that were intentional. Life planned from day zero. Whether or not that was indeed the case, Kate had no doubt that what they were currently doing wasn't a part of anyone's plan but theirs.

And perhaps God's.

"Coming?"

Something of Kate's thoughts must have registered on her face because he quickly added, "It's okay if you've changed your mind. I'm not going to force you."

Kate quickly shook her head. "No, I'm coming. It's just a bit confusing, you know, one minute I'm happily working at NCIS, the next-" Ari nodded. "Know the feeling."

Kate reminded herself that she wasn't the only one leaving her entire life behind. _Quit being selfish, Katie._

Before the other side of her could point out that she was sacrificing life as she knew it for her child, which made her about as unselfish as she could get, she blurted out, "Let's go."

Ari insisted on carrying Kate's duffel bag and backpack, despite her protests. "I'm not an invalid. I _am_ perfectly capable of carrying my own luggage."

"Okay, fine. As long as I get to carry the baby."

Kate squinted with one eye, quizzical. "Huh?"

Ari laughed and handed her the handle to her suitcase.

Glancing around her apartment one last time, Kate followed Ari out of the door. For reason or reasons unknown, she even bothered to lock the door and slip the key into a crack in the baseboard.

_Move on, Kate. Don't look back._

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Kate could hardly believe that she was actually doing this. Any second now, she was going to wake up, and the trip, or the "incident" with Director Morrow, or the baby, or even Ari himself would all disappear. The thought was surprisingly upsetting. _ No, I wouldn't go back, even if I could._

She was jarred out of her reverie again rather abruptly, this time by the car parking and shutting off.

"There's our flight," said Ari, pointing across a chain-link fence to the loading area, where a cargo plane had been parked, looking very unassuming. At Kate's skeptical glance, he added, "It's a lot nicer on the inside."

"If you say so."

Not even bothering with a repeat of their earlier argument, Kate grabbed her suitcase and followed Ari through a back entrance. "Why is there no securi-" Ari cut her off with a look. "Gotcha."

"Wait here," he directed her as they reached the bottom of the plane. "I'll make sure she's awake. She startles easily."

Kate nodded, set her bag down and nervously ran her fingers through her hair. She barely remembered what Ari's sister looked like. Brief glimpses hardly sufficed to form a memory of an entire person.

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"Ziva."

She barely reacted.

"Ziva, I know you're tired, and I know I said you could sleep, but Caitlin's here and if you want to meet her, you need to wake up."

She shook her head, but Ari didn't think she'd actually woken. "Okay, I'll take that as a 'later'."

After tucking her blanket more closely around her, Ari walked back down the ramp. _I guess we'll have introductions mid-flight._ "Come on in, Caitlin. She's not in the mood."

Actually, Ziva was indeed awake. She wanted to see this strange woman Ari had found and why on earth he wanted to bring her along, figure out what she was like before having to actually interact with her. Unlike Kate, she had a perfect memory of what the other woman looked like, but knew nothing of her personality, as the only times she'd seen her, she'd been unconscious. _Lucky for her._

The baby stirred inside her, eliciting a wave of protectiveness from her that was so strong, it almost hurt. _Don't worry, little one, don't worry. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you._

Kate didn't feel particularly lucky. What she _did_ feel was that she'd been sucked into Star Wars, about to board the Millennium Falcon for a completely different planet.

It was, perhaps, a reasonable feeling.

Well, the ship -excuse me, plane- didn't have light speed, or (as far as Kate knew) hidden compartments, or R2-D2, or Chewie, or holographic chess, but it did look infinitely more comfortable than Han Solo's pride and joy. Blankets and pillows strewn across the floor gave the impression of a slumber party, which was further enhanced by the boxes of snacks. The plane's built-in lights had been switched off, leaving the illumination duties to soft, warm, incandescent light bulbs stuck to the walls.

Ari came up the ramp behind her, exaggeratedly huffing and puffing, dragging her duffel bag and backpack like they were filled with gold.

"So, when I said 'bare necessities', you think I meant this? I can't believe you pack this much stuff and then make me carry it all!"

Kate walked over to him and punched him in the ribs.


End file.
